My Angel, Their Devil
by tinylexie
Summary: Regulus is about to be punished for failing to kill a Muggle, but then someone steps forward in his defense. Takes place during the First Wizarding War. Can be read either as a sequel to "The New Recruit" or as a stand-alone.


Regulus knew that he was going to be dead before the night was over.

He just didn't know for how long he would be tortured before he would finally be granted the mercy of death.

"Am I to believe that you, a Pureblood from a noble family, allowed a _Muggle_ to get the best of him?" the Dark Lord hissed softly. "Or am I to believe that you, a Pureblood from a noble family, purposely allowed a Muggle to escape justice?"

Regulus kept his eyes on the ground. He couldn't bring himself to meet the Dark Lord's eyes. He just couldn't.

Just like he had not been able to bring himself to kill that Muggle woman earlier that night.

"Well, which is it, Regulus Black?" the Dark Lord demanded, no longer bothering with trying to hide his anger. "Are you incompetent or are you a coward? Do you have a bad aim or are you a Muggle sympathizer? Are you a Pureblood or are you a _Blood-Traitor_?"

Regulus looked up ever so slightly, but not to meet the Dark Lord's eyes. Instead, he looked to his side, where his cousin Bellatrix was standing.

It quickly became clear, however, that Regulus would receive no pity or help from his cousin as Bellatrix was looking at him with a disgusted expression on her face.

Regulus really wasn't surprised. Bellatrix had never had any problems with killing. For her, just killing was not enough. She had to torture her victims first.

Still, though, Bellatrix was family. That had to mean something, didn't it?"

"Answer him," Bellatrix breathed harshly. "Answer your lord and master."

Regulus suddenly felt as if the Dark Mark on his arm was burning.

The Dark Mark. Regulus's pledge of allegiance to the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord. A master Regulus could not serve. Not if it meant torturing and killing people, even if those people were Muggles. They were Muggles, yes, but they were also people.

Regulus looked away from his cousin, only to find himself meeting the Dark Lord's eyes.

Regulus gulped for a moment. But then he remembered his training and quickly brought up his Occlumency shields, just as Lucius had taught him to.

But Regulus could feel that his shields were quickly collapsing under the intense stare of his master.

His master. What had he been thinking when he had taken the Mark?

"You _are_ a Blood-Traitor," the Dark Lord began to speak.

"No," Regulus gasped in desperation.

The Dark Lord began to lift up his wand.

"My lord," a man's voice suddenly spoke, both smoothly and calmly.

The Dark Lord's wand stopped where it was as its wielder turned his head to look at the speaker.

Lucius Malfoy stepped forward from his spot in the circle.

The moonlight reflected off Lucius's platinum blond hair in a way that almost made it look as if the man had a halo around his head.

In the moonlight, with his long whitish hair and his pale skin, Lucius Malfoy almost looked angelic.

Regulus knew that his parents would be more than displeased if they ever found out that their prized son had studied different Muggle religions.

But Regulus had always had the desire to learn.

And Lucius had been one of the few people in Regulus's life who had encouraged that desire.

"Lucius," the Dark Lord hissed.

"My lord, please forgive me for speaking like this," Lucius said, his voice still smooth and calm, "but I saw what happened between Regulus and that Muggle woman. And I can tell you with absolute certainty that what happened was not Regulus's fault. The Muggle was fast and sneaky, like the filthy animal that she is. And Regulus is still young and inexperienced. He is in need of more training and guidance."

"How am I to know that you are speaking truthfully to me, Lucius?" the Dark Lord pressed. "I know that you care for the boy. Your wife is close to him, is she not?"

"I would not care for him if he was weak," Lucius retorted, even though he was careful to keep his voice respectful.

"So, what happened tonight was your fault then, Lucius," the Dark Lord said matter-of-factly. "You were the one that was supposed to make sure that the boy was ready for tonight's raid."

"I am sorry, my lord," Lucius responded. "I promise that I will train him better in the future, if you will grant me the chance."

The Dark Lord raised up his wand and pointed it Lucius.

"No," Regulus gasped.

Lucius gave Regulus a warning look before directing his attention back to the Dark Lord.

"The boy made us all look like fools tonight, Lucius," the Dark Lord breathed, "because of your failure in preparing him."

Lucius just nodded his head as he stood as straightly as possible, every inch the proud, aristocratic Pureblood.

He did not stand for long, however. As soon as the Dark Lord's curse hit him, he was knocked off his feet and onto the ground.

Regulus had to look away. He couldn't bear to look at his strong, proud friend, on his knees and screaming in agony.

The rest of the Death Eaters just stood there slightly in their spots in the circle, their faces not betraying any emotion.

 _Please, let it stop,_ Regulus begged silently as Lucius's tortured screams continued to fill the otherwise quiet night. _Please, just let this all be over._

The Dark Lord held onto the curse for several more agonizing moments, however.

Then, finally, the Dark Lord was satisfied that he had successfully made his point.

Lucius gasped for breath as the Dark Lord turned away from him.

The other Death Eaters avoided looking at Lucius as well.

"I will not tolerate failure from any of you," the Dark Lord spoke as he slowly turned in a circle in order to meet the eyes of every single gathered Death Eater. "Let tonight be a lesson to all of you. Now go and return to your homes."

Everyone immediately began to Disapparate.

No one gave Lucius a second glance.

As soon as everyone else was gone, however, Regulus slowly and cautiously approached the older wizard.

Regulus then offered his hand to Lucius, who was still on his knees and gasping for air.

Lucius slapped Regulus's hand away.

"I do not need your help."

Regulus withdrew his hand, but he didn't move as Lucius slowly made his way back to his feet.

Lucius took several breaths to compose himself.

"Thank you," Regulus mumbled. "You didn't have to do that for me. You shouldn't have done that for me."

"Do not try to tell me what I should or shouldn't do," Lucius snapped. "I've told you before that you should have come to me before you had foolishly went to the Dark Lord to take the Mark. You are now in this for the rest of your life, Regulus. You best work on making sure that you have a stronger stomach in the future. I will not always be able to protect you."

"I can't do it, Lucius," Regulus mumbled. "I just can't go around and kill Muggles."

"Then the Dark Lord will kill you," Lucius replied, his voice harsh.

"What am I going to do?" Regulus cried. "What am I going to do, Lucius?"

The older wizard did not answer for a moment. Then, he said, "I will try my best to keep you from having to go on another raid for as long as I can. But eventually, Regulus, you are going to have to go on another raid if you want to keep on living. And you are going to have to kill. You are going to have to learn how to stop thinking of those Muggles as being people. They are not people. They are monsters. If they knew what you were, they would kill you with no hesitation. Remember that."

Regulus looked away. He wouldn't deny that there probably was some truth in Lucius's words, but he still could not bring himself to feel the same anger and bitterness.

The moonlight, meanwhile, continued to reflect off Lucius's hair in an almost angelic way.

It didn't make any sense. Lucius could be so kind and gentle to those that he cared about. But whenever he was dealing with someone he didn't like (which was most people), he suddenly became the devil.

Lucius suddenly held out his arm. "Come," he spoke, his voice now softer and gentler. "You don't have your licence yet, and I don't want you Splinching yourself."

Regulus took Lucius's offered arm. A moment later, he felt the sensation of Side-Along Disapparation.

But it wasn't that sensation that was causing Regulus to feel sick. No, what was making him feel sick was the thought of one day having to actually kill someone. He just couldn't do it. He wasn't like the other Death Eaters, all of whom seemed to enjoy what they did. He wasn't even like Lucius, who (even though he didn't torture as much as some of the others) still had no problems with casting the Killing Curse.

Regulus might as well be already dead because there was no way that he could ever be a killer, not even to save his own life.


End file.
